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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27028051">Fairytales and Wishes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646'>Charlie9646</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Based off of Enchanted, Beauty and the Beast, Dramione Romcom Fest, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fairytale Themes, Fluffy, Severus Snape Lives, accidental magic, charms gone wrong, parenting, step parents, to still be a bit of a jerk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:08:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27028051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All Scorpius wants is for Hermione to be a nice step mother, but somehow that sort of gets lost in translation with his accidental magic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape/Narcissa Malfoy, past Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dramione RomCom Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fairytales and Wishes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest">DramioneRomComFest</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0461770/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0">Enchanted (2007)</a></p><p>Thank you RoseHarperMaxwell for Betaing this and the fest runners for allowing me to change my prompt when it became clear the other wasn’t working with my muse.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Scorpius missed his mother; he missed Astoria like nothing he ever had before. There was a yearning in his bones and soul to simply be held by her once more. But that would never happen. His mother was dead, gone and buried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s in a happier place,” father would say softly. “She’s no longer in pain and she’s looking down from heaven, making sure you're safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well if she’s in a happier place, why can’t we go there? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Scorpius thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why can’t we be with her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His father had been so sad. He would sit in his office, staring out at the gardens of the manor, tears streaking down his cheeks. His father didn’t eat, didn’t go to work, and wouldn’t play with him, either. Until, that is, he met Ms. Hermione again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grandpa called her a mudblood. Grandma said to be kind to her. Mr. Severus, the man who was married to his grandmother, would just mutter on about something Scorpius couldn’t understand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ms. Hermione was nice, but she wasn’t his mum. She wasn’t his mother, and grandpa insisted she never would be.  But, Ms. Hermione just wouldn’t go away—not that his father wanted her to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scorpius picked up the book that the woman had given him. It was about Muggle fairy tales, and she'd tried to convince him to allow her to read it to him. A common feature of them all was an evil stepmother. Tonight his father had told him that he was going to marry Ms. Hermione. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So was she going to become evil like those women in the story book? Was she going to turn him into a house elf? Was she going to send him to live in a strange village? Was she going to lock him in a castle? Was she going to send him to Wonderland? Maybe that last one wouldn’t be so bad—he might get to see his mother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, his mind supplied, she wouldn’t be an evil stepmother if he turned her into a princess, now would Ms. Hermione? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Long ago, his mother had told Scorpius that if he really and fully wished for something it would happen. It would become as real as anything else had ever been. So Scorpius wished as hard as he could possibly wish for his soon-to-be stepmother to be like the princesses in the storybook. Kind, generous, but most of all—accepting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The magic flowed through him and around him, changing the woman in the other room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>                        ***********************</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco woke up to the sound of singing. A clear, soft voice filled his ears and echoed throughout the halls of the manor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What in bloody Merlin’s name was that? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For that matter, </span>
  </em>
  <span>who</span>
  <em>
    <span> was that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco opened his eyes. The light streamed through the window and Hermione wasn’t in the bed with him. He reached out his fingers, brushing across the woman’s empty pillow. It was cold. Clearly she hadn’t been in bed for a long while. Maybe Hermione was already up making breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was rather odd, but not unheard of. Even if it was Sunday, which they usually spent mornings like this in bed. Since well… It was one of the only days they could do so. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and pulling on his dressing gown, sighing and stretching his arms over his head.. The singing continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Severus stood in his doorway, already dressed. His face was ashen and his eyes wide. He spat, stepping into the room. “Something is really wrong with Granger.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you even mean?” Draco asked. “Is she hurt or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Physically?” the former professor asked, pinching his nose. “She’s fine. But mentally is a whole different story.”  Then he shouted. “Bloody hell, Granger, for the love of Merlin… Stop singing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s her?” Draco groaned. “Hermione can’t sing. She’s as tone deaf as a…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Strangled squirrel,” Severus muttered. “Well, she’s not anymore, and she turned your mother’s curtains into a dress. I don’t know what you two have been doing, but it’s got to stop,” he growled. “The woman has lost her freaking mind!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco followed the man out of his room and into his mother’s drawing room. Hermione stood there, surrounded by all sorts of creatures, though most were pigeons and rats. She was cleaning about singing, and the animals were doing it. Hermione was dressed in, as Snape had said, a dress made out of his mother’s bright yellow curtains. The ones that she had bought post-war, trying to bring light and life back into their home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hermione!” Draco cried. “What happened to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned to him sharply. She stopped singing, and the animals stopped cleaning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name isn’t that,” Hermione said, her brow wrinkling. “But what is yours?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Draco,” he said softly. “Your fiance. You don’t remember me, truly? Or yourself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do remember myself,” she declared, eyes narrowing. “I am Belle, from France. I am trapped in this rather odd castle because a beast trapped my father, and I took his place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will firecall Potter,” his mother muttered. “Maybe he can figure out what’s wrong with her.” Narcissa stalked off, heels clicking across the tile floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her unspoken words hung in the air like an echo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What would they do if Hermione couldn’t be helped?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was too early to think about such things. Curses could be broken. Magic could undo what it had once done. And Draco would drain the Malfoy vaults to do it.  He thought about the dragon that haunted the back of Malfoy property. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. It was not the time or place to think about such things. For all everyone knew, Astoria was dead and buried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>                        **************************</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stepped through the fireplace, hissing as he did so. Draco watched the man in his faded Muggle jeans, which were worn the old-fashioned way. A shirt hung off his narrow frame, faded by sun and possibly even hard labor. Potter looked like a strange creature from another planet in comparison to the room he stood in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mother told me a bit about what was wrong, but she wasn’t quite clear on what’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>happened,” Harry said brushing the soot from his already stained clothing. His boots tracked mud on the pristine white tiles, but Draco stopped himself from commenting on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Severus leaned  against the doorframe, cigarette smoke clinging around him like snakes reaching out to stain and touch the white walls. “Granger thinks she’s Belle from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beauty and the Beast.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Basically, where is a poisoned apple when you need one?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Potter’s eyebrows shot into his hairline above his glasses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But that would kill her! Hermione thinks she’s…” Harry cried, fingers twisting into his wild hair. “Can I speak to her?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what good would that do? The boy-who-lived surely can’t be bothered with a witch who has lost her mind. Surely he would be far too busy?” Snape asked, scowling. Holding up his hands, he added, “kidding.”   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t kid about something like that,” Draco growled. “But yes, Potter, I can take you to her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Potter followed him into the drawing room where Narcissa was sitting with Hermione on the sofa. Severus followed behind at their heels. He muttered on about something Draco didn’t bother to listen to. Maybe it was time to ask his mother and her new husband to move out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s cat Crookshanks was sitting in her lap. She was softly petting the creature. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hermione?” Harry asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do people keep calling me that?” Hermione asked, her voice rather shrill. “It’s not my name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> your name,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No it’s not,” she said, her brown eyes narrowing, fingers digging in sharply to the sofa. Then she began to softly giggle. Her hand went over her mouth. “Well, that’s odd.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s odd?” Harry asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This feeling…” Hermione said. “Anger? Possibly? And then it was just gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco sighed for a second and then it vanished into the wind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Potter pulled out his wand, saying a bunch of spells. Sparks flew from it, reaching out and touching Hermione. The man hissed through gritted teeth once he was done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Draco asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to speak to your son,” Harry said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco began tapping his foot as he spoke “Why on earth do you need to speak to my son?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because unless someone else in this room is prone to accidental bloody magic, I need to speak to Scorpius.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will go fetch him,” Severus said, rolling his eyes.  He turned to walk off sighing loudly as he did so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would he have done this?” Draco asked through clenched teeth. His hands shoved deeper into his pockets and turned into fists. “Why would he hate her? Hermione has been nothing but kind to him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because she’s not his mother,” Narcissa hissed, shifting in her seat. “Because you are trying to actively pretend everything is fine when it clearly bloody well isn’t. He might be a child, but Scorpius isn’t stupid. It isn’t his fault, and it isn’t Grangers...it’s yours, Draco.” Her eyes were sharp, her frame shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Severus walked back into the room holding the hand of Scorpius. The little boy’s face was turned down and he was staring at his feet. A large part of Draco could not believe that his son had done such a thing. Scorpius was a far better child than he himself had ever hoped to be. But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> still a child, and Draco himself had put the weight of the world on his small shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Scorpius cried. “I just didn’t want to end up with a stepmother like the ones from the book!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What book?” Harry asked softly, walking over to kneel in front of him. He brushed the boy’s blond hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. “I swear, Scorpius, you're not in trouble, no matter what. I have sons about your age—Al and Jamie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And you know what? Al recently turned his grandmother’s hair purple. She was just so bloody mad, but you know what? A simple wave of a wand and she was back to her redheaded self. But to do that? I needed to know what he had thought. I can help Hermione easily and I swear she won’t be mad either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought… about...Ms. Hermione should be like the princesses in the story book. Kind, generous, but most of all, accepting,” the boy said softly. “I wished that she would be like my mum, but herself as well. I miss my mum so much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Draco’s heart lurched at those words. It </span><em><span>was</span></em><span> his</span> <span>fault his son felt this way. He and Astoria had chosen to keep the truth from their son and everyone else. His former wife wasn’t dead, but she had lost her humanity.  </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mother isn’t dead, Scorpius. She had a blood curse that she inherited from her father. The male carries it, but the Greengrass women are the ones who suffer from it. It turns them into a creature or an animal,” Draco said with conviction. He stared at the backs of his hands, examining his wrist bones, his veins that stuck out, his pale skin, and his knuckles. Each word he spoke easier than the last, he continued on. “She might still be alive, but she’s not who she once was. And I am sorry that I lied to you my son, but Astoria begged me to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Part of him knew he wasn’t speaking to his son the way he should. The words were things Scorpius might not understand.  But he wasn't just</span> <span>telling his son about this. He was telling his mother and Severus. To whatever odd thing  Harry—a man he was just starting to trust—had become to this family. And most of all, to Hermione. If she was still in there, buried under the spell of Scorpius’ creation.  </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with those words, Hermione blinked, her dress transforming back into the jeans and shirt she normally wore. Her eyes became clearer and the emotion she was experiencing hit her like a ton of bricks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Draco,” Hermione said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco Malfoy admitted something his father long ago would have snarled about. “Because I was scared. I feared that you wouldn’t understand. That you wouldn’t want me anymore. I was terrified that you would leave me. I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, more than words can ever say. And I couldn’t lose you, too.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p><span>Hermione stood, walking over to him. She took his face into her hands and looked up at him with those deep brown eyes. Every single part of this woman felt like home. </span><em><span>She</span></em><span> felt</span> <span>like coming home. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t going to lose me, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione reassured him. “Unless you ever lie to me again about something so important.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco reached up, touching the tears on his own cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How long ago had it been since he cried? Months at the very least. Not since Astoria had died. He had spent what had seemed like months crying. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Draco simply became numb to it all. Until Hermione came trampling back into his life, bulldozer and wrecking ball that she was. Hermione changed everything, and he wouldn’t lose her for anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I swear it,” he whispered. “I will never lie to you again. I am so sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Forgiveness is a gift that might take a lifetime to earn, but if you love someone, you feel as if you have to try.  </span>
</p><p>
  
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